


Lest Darkness Come Upon you

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Death, Children, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail had been a good girl. Abigail had left that day to go take care of her aging uncle for her mother. Abigail had been a student of Hogwarts, a younger and older sister. Abigail had plans to become a Healer when she finished her schooling. Abigail hadn't deserved what happened to her. What could they do, though? The little footprints had stopped at the brook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lest Darkness Come Upon you

In a small, two room home, a young girl and old man puttered about in the growing shadows. The man stoked the fire and the girl tidied away a stack of just cleaned dishes to the shelf above the water basin. Humming one of the church hymns her mother was so fond of singing under her breath, she went to retrieve her robe from the back of the chair she'd been seated in only thirty minutes before. Slipping it on, Abigail went to her great uncle's side.

Kissing his weathered face, she said, "Did you like mum's dinner? I told her you'd rather have shepherd's pie over beef tips like last week."

"A good girl you are, Abigail," he praised as he patted her cheek. Cracking his knuckles then, he asked her, "Would you get me the book from the mantle, little niece?"

"Of course, uncle Thaddeus," the young girl agreed with a happy flush to her cheeks.

Abigail liked to help, in fact, someday she hoped to be a Healer. She wanted to be like the one that set her older sister Anna's arm when she broke it a year and half ago after taking a tumble down her family's staircase. That Healer, with a gap-toothed smile and choice set of words had managed to calm Abigail's sister and mother in a way she and the rest of her family had failed to do so on their way to St. Mungo's.

It was a covetable skill and one Abigail was certain she'd master if she worked as a healer at St. Mungo's.

Pausing in front of her great uncle's mantle, she grabbed the book he wanted and brought it back to him. Catching his pale gaze as she handed the book over, Abigail gave her goodbye, "I'll see you next Sunday, uncle Thaddeus."

His pale eyes went to the window. "Hurry little niece, as the good book says,  _walk while ye have light lest darkness come upon you._ "

"Don't worry, uncle," Abigail insisted as she picked up her basket of sewing. "The days are just getting shorter - it's no more dangerous than it was last week."

Uncle Thaddeus was not appeased and came to grasp her wrist with a strength of a man half - if not a quarter his age. " _Hurry,_ little niece," he ordered.

"Yes, uncle," she whispered.

Letting her go, Abigail took the chance and headed off for home.

-V-V-V-V-V-

Taking the familiar path home through the sparse woodland between her parents' home in town and her uncle's farm, the shadows stretched into Abigail's path as the sun inched it's way under the horizon. Singing now, Abigail was interrupted when an owl's hoot echoed through the woods. Pausing, the young girl turned herself in a slow circle; she hoped to catch a glimpse of the owl.

She had always adored the creatures, but with four older sisters and two younger brothers, her family hadn't the money to ever buy one. They were lucky that their father's broom repair shop did as well as it did - especially when most witch and wizards were more than happy to leap at the chance to get their hands on the latest models of brooms. Not spying the feathered fellow (or miss, she supposed,) Abigail was just about to start walking home again when-

"Ahh!" She shrieked.

A boy, no older than seven, stood before her. He was dirty, his hair matted with twigs and leaves and - Abigail had to cover her burning cheeks - he had only a remnant of a sock on his left foot. Who was this child? Where did he come from? Who left him like this? Especially in this weather!? Just yesterday she'd woken to a morning frost upon her window! Abigail couldn't imagine how the boy had woken.

Crouching, she put on a smile for him. "Hello there, who are you?"

His blue eyes were glassed over.

Reaching out, Abigail made to rest a delicate hand upon his skinny shoulder when he opened his mouth to show off a set of curiously white teeth; however, they stayed that way for only a flash as they were next digging into the thin flesh of her hand. Screaming, she wretched it back, tearing her flesh far worse and then, in great horror, she watched the little boy grin at her with his now pinkish red teeth.

"I'm hungry," the little boy whispered.

So very frightened, Abigail wished she'd brought her wand with her to visit uncle Thaddeus. Expulsion from Hogwarts was looking much nicer by the minute (as death seemed so very imminent as she gazed into large blue eyes).

Holding her bleeding hand against her chest, Abigail offered, "I-If you come home with me, I can fix you up w-with a nice bowl of soup  _and_ a bed to sleep in tonight! Doesn't that sound l-lovely, poppet?"

His eyes flashed with a feral cruelty as she felt a shiver that wasn't from the coming night's coolness overtake her body.

"No," the boy said.

Knees knocking together, Abigail stammered, "What do you mean 'no', little boy?"

Reaching up with one, tiny unkempt hand; he whispered, "Why should I want stew when you taste so good?"

Heart constricting, the young girl turned heel and attempted to run.

But the boy, so very beastly and so very inhuman, gave chase and as Abigail tried to run back to her uncle's, the boy continued to grab at her robe. The light of day having long since fled, Abigail raised her eyes skyward, praying as she spied through the leafy canopies that she'd see any moon besides a full one. But, when she heard a monster roar behind her, the young girl knew there was no use.

Looking back, Abigail  _wailed_. That was - it was -

Yellow eyes training on her, the werewolf gave a grin full of ugly teeth and sprinted at her. Face wet with tears, Abigail wished she'd told her mum that she'd loved her before she left for uncle Thaddeus's today. She wished she'd said goodbye to her sister Hannah, let Ruth borrow her favorite skirt for her date, not yelled at Sally for forgetting to clean up her half of their room. She regretted calling her little brothers Samuel and Rupert pests and most of all; Abigail wished she'd hugged her daddy and Anna goodbye when she saw them at the kitchen table this morning.

Even though it was hopeless, Abigail ran and ran and could only sob when she felt the hot breath of the werewolf on her back before it-

_They found her the next morning, body ripped to shreds and tiny, bloody foot prints leading away from Abigail; but when they tried to track them, they only got to a quick running brook before the clues dried up._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think with a comment/kudo!


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